


You're Prettiest in Crema

by bonestilts



Category: Mission: Impossible (Movies)
Genre: M/M, benji's cheeks are constantly red because hes probs sunburnt, brandt probs has sunnies hanging from the neck of his shirt tbh, ethan is darker than ever because dAmn that sun, everyone is tan and sweating, its italy what can i say, its very hot, people are in shorts and loose shirts people
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-10-01
Updated: 2018-10-01
Packaged: 2019-07-23 07:35:53
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,455
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16154522
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bonestilts/pseuds/bonestilts
Summary: Brandt encourages Benji to open up to Ethan once he returns to Crema. Ice cream melting down fingers on unbearably hot days, anyone?





	You're Prettiest in Crema

**Author's Note:**

> guys im a mess, i keep starting new things. I PROMISE TO FINISH MY EARLIER WORKS. I PROMISE. but my inspo was too good to be true. enjoy european benthan!  
> (the location is kinda inspired by cmbyn so imagine a wonderful hot afternoon, very light, warm air, maybe a gentle breeze, open cafes where the door legit doesnt exist, its just a massive shutter wall to close at night, loose clothing, sandals, tans, martinis. sun. lots of sun. and sweating.) ok cool

Ethan had stood by Billy Baird since 2001, sworn on his mum’s life that he was an excellent pilot, and Benji believed him. He didn’t say anything about how excellent he was with keeping company; not good. Benji wanted to just about run off.

He was hardly listening to a word the man was saying. Billy’d been telling the same story for around three minutes now, far too long in Benji’s books; despite him being the known loudmouth in their team. His accent didn’t take long to adjust to, they both came from non-rhotic countries, Benji could already understand what he was talking about when Billy said the word ‘car’ without pronouncing the ’r’, whereas Brandt had to think hard about every second word that came out.

“—n’there I was, right, standing just out in my garden by the road and the poor bastard was shaking with guilt, lookin’ like he was ‘bout to chuck a wobbly, bloke had no idea what to do. The roo was convulsing cause it wasn’t hit hard enough to die instantly, it’s brain was fucked but the muscles were still going crazy. I was ‘bout to go out there and help, dunno what I would have done, when suddenly he went round the back of his Jeep and pulled out a damn wrench and started pelting down on he roo’s head. Tryna’ put the thing out of its misery.”

Brandt flashed a glance at him and Benji grimaced, “Dear lord, did that do the job?”

“Nah mate, he called the police instead and drove off before they could get there. Let me remind you this is like, what—almost midnight, I reckon he woke those poor shits up just to come down all that way and not know what to do with the damn kangaroo either. Both of ‘em were standing there, shaking their heads down at this roo, which was still flipping back and forth, and I’m like twenty metres away, just listening in on their convo, yeah—“

“Did anyone think to drag it off the road?” Brandt suggested.

“Nah, nah, no one could be bothered, y’know? Too late at night, if anyone did come through they’d see the police car and drive around it. Happens all the time, prolly ‘round five roos get hit a day, you see them lying around not the curb everywhere you go, we should be killing more of ‘em if they’re stupid enough to jump in front of cars. Hard to figure out what else to do.”

Benji cleared his throat, betraying his initial judgement of the man by actually being intrigued in the story now. “So, what did the police do about the kangaroo?”

“Po obviously weren’t too educated on what to do when they come across a convulsing roo so they ended up calling a ranger. They waited round ‘till the ranger arrived, all while I’m standing by the porch with a VB long neck in hand, my cuz flies ‘em up for me. He brought his big truck in, mind you this particular roo was monstrous, just fucking massive mate; he walked round the front of it, pulled out his gun and shot the roo three times, then grabbed it by its tail, slung the damn thing over his shoulder, put ‘im in the back, nodded to the officers and then drove off.”

Billy started laughing manically, like he couldn’t believe his ears. And for the contrary, Benji couldn’t either, he’d never heard of such a thing happening before, which made sense because there weren’t any kangaroos in Brockworth, Gloucestershire. Still, he was amazed at how many kangaroos were being savagely murdered each day, even if they were by accident, he had always assumed they were a national treasure (like the Queen’s corgis), what with being on the coin and all. Then he supposed a lot of other animals were on the coin too.

“The police were blocking my view so I couldn’t tell where he was shooting, polly not the head if he had to do it three bloody times, but Christ, I’ve never heard a gunshot go off in or near my neighbourhood, not where I live, just doesn’t happen; so this was a big shocker.”

Brandt hummed, “Yeah, I bet… where did you say this was again?”

“Canberra.”

“Australia, huh. I’m surprised the kangaroos aren’t more taken care of over there.” Benji nods back to Billy.

Billy grumbles, tilting his head for a moment and gave Benji a tired look, “We try our best, y’know, but the speed limits on those damn roads are just too high to be lookin’ out into the bush every second, it’s such a long way to go when getting from one place to another; we’ve no choice but to go fast. Head over to Vic and you’ll get the better treated ones, they stay well away from the city, I reckon they’ve stollen the smarter bunch from us. Or fucking Kangaroo Island, they’ve got plenty’ah gorgeous ones over there, thriving with no cars to run ‘em over.”

“I think we’re good on seeing any kangaroos,” Brandt interrupts, putting up his palm briefly, “we’re not too interested in city sightseeing either.”

“Nah, come on-ow. You’re in bloody Crema, for heaven’s sake, give the buildings a go. Yeah? In my opinion, this is one of the prettiest—“

“And we didn’t ask for your opinion.” Brandt gave Billy a stern look as the bloke scratched his horribly grown beard, it hadn’t filled out yet, despite him being in his early thirties already. Benji had to stop himself from excusing himself to the loo right then and there. He always begins to sweat during tense situations, “Now, we’re sorry but you’re going to have to be excused; Dunn and I have to talk over our objective.”

Did they? Benji didn’t think the secretary had given them another mission, and an open area wasn’t an ideal location to discuss confidential tasks.

“Right-o. See you guys round then, eh?”

“Yep.” Benji didn’t look at Billy again, instead he stared straight at the mans water cup and noticed the dishwasher markings on the cheap plastic, then realised that all of their glasses were in terrible condition. So much for being in such a beautiful place, they couldn’t even bother to wash the cutlery properly either. 

“See you when we see you.” Brandt gave him a short lived smile, there was no chance of it ever reaching his eyes.

Billy stood up and took pleasure in taking his own cup over to the counter, it didn’t strike Benji as a kind thing to do, only delaying his leave. He puffed out his shirt momentarily, there was a large sweet patch on the back of it, right between his shoulder blades. Benji was certain that he and Brandt had matching ones. Then he finally stepped outside into the sunshine and hobbled away across the cobblestone.

Brandt turned back to him now, elbows on the table with his cheeks resting in his fists. “Never liked that guy,” he says as soon as he’s out of hearing range.

Benji took a sip of his coffee and nodded briefly, agreeing, “He was recruited before our time, we didn’t really get a chance to know him.”

“Still, he’s not the best talker.” 

Benji laughs, “You were a bit harsh on him, Will.” 

Brandt ignores him, “Why did he tag along again? Think I’ve blocked him from my memory.” he confesses with a small grin, real this time.

“Ethan chose him to fly us out. It was all ‘top secret’, remember?” Benji says with a sarcastic tone, “Though I’m not sure which part of the last mission had been secret, we basically landed in the town square. Nor why he stayed around for so long afterwards.”

Brandt grunts, “Mmh, well, at least that’s all over. He probably just wanted to hang around while the sun was still up, he was right, this is the prettiest city in Lombardy.” 

Benji sneaked a look at the man across from him to see him gazing out the wide entrance of the cafe. It had no doors, just a step up from the street onto a smooth stone flooring, lined tables against a cushioned wall and air conditioning. The sound of cars going past was faint, the clattering of the coffee machine and other customers talking were prominent. 

Benji cleared his throat and caught Brandt’s attention once more, “Has the secretary spoken to you since we were all together? Anything about Ethan?”

“Nope. No new mission, they usually doesn’t come this early anyway. Though I suppose I could ask for him to give us some easier cases, while we’re here. Could help out a bit.” he took a sip, “Has Ethan contacted you yet?”

“He hasn’t, no. What do you mean yet? Was I supposed to get—“

“Hey, hey,” Brandt laughs softly, “don’t go getting your knickers in a twist, Dunn. I meant do you know where he’s gone, no one’s had word from the two since they left. He and Luther. Thought maybe you two were keeping in closer contact since you’re… you know, better friends.”

Benji couldn’t stop himself from scoffing, “You’d think that. I guess it doesn’t matter how close you are the to guy, he doesn’t let anyone very far into his private life. I’m nothing special.” They both took a moment to enjoy their drink before Benji continued, “Did Luther mention where they were off to?”

Brandt shook his head, “Only that the secretary promised it would take two days, I’m assuming they’re somewhere in the region, chasing down an evil witch or something like it. But other than that, we’re officially on holiday. Hallelujah!” he spent the next minute fisting the air while Benji looked on grinning.

“Lucky us, having to wait back here for them. It was a lot more fun when the five of us were roaming the streets piss drunk.” Benji included Billy when realistically it had only been the four of them; although Billy could drink beer like it was water, he wasn’t one Benji considered a friend. Ethan, however, had refused to get drunk, he’d assigned himself the role of the designated driver, or in their case it was the designated walker. Luther was a beast, with all that mass, it took Benji a quarter of the time it took Luther to get bent.

Benji and Brandt’s tolerance to alcohol were almost identical, despite having different bodies and histories with drinking, they bonded most whilst being smashed. Truth is that Benji doesn’t actually like alcohol very much at all, he’d picked up drinking as a teenager to seemingly fit in with his rugby friends (not that he was very good at rugby either), who’d go out every Thursday before their game the next morning. Thinking back on it now, the hangover wasn’t thrilling in the slightest and the whole thing was a terrible idea.

“What a blast. Thank God nothing’s stopping us from doing it more often, we don’t have to turn back in until we get notice. Admittedly, it is going to be less fun now that Carter’s gone on maternity.”

“She’ll be back sooner or later, better bring that son of hers around too.”

“It’s a boy?” 

Benji’s face automatically moulded into a wide smile, the topic was children; of course he was going to beam like a dork. He needn’t feel embarrassed about it though, Brandt’s lips were mimicking his own, and his eyes looked brighter. “Yeah, fuck—sorry, didn’t you know already?”

“No, no no, that’s all good, I’d been meaning to ask someone the sex for a while. Gosh,” Brandt pulled an adoring face, “isn’t that just the best.”

It wasn’t a question so Benji nodded along (he couldn’t agree more), and tried to dull down the pain in his cheeks. He decided to turn down a risky path, “D’you have anyone waiting back at home?”

“Oh sure, I’ve got parents back in California constantly wondering about my health and what exactly it is I’m up to.” Brandlt sat forward and slid his elbows across the table closer to Benji, the movement rocked his cup, “Between you and me, I may have told them that I was an analyst for the IMF,” then hurriedly as if he was in trouble, “but not that I’ve since become an agent... again. That’s still locked down.”

“You didn’t tell them what IMF stands for, did you?” Benji couldn’t wait. Brandt threw back his head with a chortle, no doubt caused by a certain memory; it made Benji start laughing along with him even before the story was told.

“It wa—You’d never believe the look on my dad’s face when I did. He almost threw me across the room, legit, he thought I was making the shit up! He was furious — fuck, man, it was hilarious.”

Benji giggled along, “Christ, I bet. Fortunately, I’ve got the easier job to make up, couldn’t bare have my mum worry about me more than she already does. She’d have a damn heart attack if she found out I knew how to disassemble and reassemble a handgun; let alone use one. For now I’m just a casual technician, nothing too hard to talk about for hours on end at family gatherings.”

“Yeah, yeah. You lucked out on that one.”

“Sure did, but—uhh… back to you, sorry I kinda pushed my way through the con—“ Benji waved his hand dismissively at Brandt’s ‘no! no! it’s fine!’ and rushed on, “There anymore family?”

Brandt hesitated before letting a shy smile play on his lips, “There’s a—I’ve actually got a son, uhm, waiting for me to get back.” 

Benji almost fell out of his tilted chair.

“You do?” The last word was cut off with a soft, disbelieving laugh, “No way, holy shiii-woah.”

Brand tucked his head, obviously trying to hide the prideful smile that had taken over his initial coy one, his ears were tinting with pink. Benji couldn’t help but reach out a hand to pat Brandt’s shoulder. There was something about his reaction that made Benji assume this addition to Brandt’s family was relatively new, he still seemed overwhelmed with happiness as any new father is. 

“Wow. No but, seriously, congratulations mate. That’s fantastic news, I’m really happy for you.”

“Thanks, Benji.”

Something pulled in his chest at Brandt calling him by his first name, it was so personal, so forward; something meant only for Benji. He felt like they finally reached the next stepping stone in their relationship. “Who’s the lucky bird?”

“My wife at home, who I know is taking all the right care of him. She’s a real blessing, that woman, she’s incredible.”

Benji didn’t have anything else to say, he smiled brightly at Brandt and nodded deeply. “She sounds it.” 

They both simultaneously took a sip of their coffees. Benji liked the warm coat of sugar his left on his bottom lip to suck off afterwards.

Brandt put down his mug noisily, “You?”

“If I? Family?” Brandt raised his eyebrows, waiting for a spill on Benji’s personal life in return, “Oh, nah, no. I don’t have—I’m still single,” Benji inwardly cringed at his own words, it made him sound like he’d struggled being single for years, which wasn’t far from the truth, “never had the time to have a relationship, you know, what with being at the office at all hours — not anymore. Hard to dedicate time to someone outside of the IMF.”

“I dunno, man. I worked it out and she knows what I do, of course. I don’t think it’s that difficult to snap someone up, maybe you just need to try harder.”

The tone in which Brandt spoke in pissed Benji off. He suddenly felt hot under his own skin, wanted to pound a fist on the table in frustration. Where did Brant think he got off? He didn’t have any right in saying those things to Benji, who’d been in the game much longer than he had. Benji could always try harder to ‘snap someone up’, yes, but the person he was after wasn’t exactly appreciative of his efforts. Or acknowledging. 

“You’re right,” Benji said, not at all meaning it. He wanted to scowl at Brandt but bit back any rude remarks, “I think I’ve been discouraged through Ethan, made me rethink the idea of romantic attachment. You know? Especially with the majority of his relationships ending so horribly. Scared me off a little.” That wasn’t right either, but making excuses was far easier than unleashing the painful truth behind it all.

“Don’t use him as an example for romantic relationships, you’d be far better at it than he is.”

What was Brandt trying to say; that Ethan was bad at conducting an all strings attached relationship? Benji wasn’t sure if that was good or bad news. Good in the sense that it meant Ethan would probably be off the market for a while, after so many attempts there’d have to be a point where he’d just give up. But then bad for Benji to imagine them every getting caught up with each other, was he that bad? Would it ever work out? Of course not.

“What do you mean?”

“It happens,” Brandt shrugs, “Being an agent and all, having to be secretive and keeping people away from the truth. It’s all part of the job. It’s hard for him to seperate those two lives, one as a killer and the other as an innocent, loving husband; I got the jackpot and just so happened to find the perfect woman, very understanding. But Ethan is attracted to dangerous people, the ones who balance him out, neither one dominates the other. It was no wonder he was after Ilsa for so long.”

Benji shook his head, all of this was hard to process. The analysis over Ethan’s attractions were entirely new to Benji, he’d never thought of looking so far into it. “Wait, but Ilsa and him—they never had anything. That was strictly work related.” There was a twang of panic in his chest, “Wasn’t it?”

“Right, yeah sure.” Brandt was frowning at Benji, his eyes squinted ever so slightly. He was trying to read Benji’s reaction. “No, yeah, nothing happened between them. They balanced each other out well, get it?”

“I ge—sort of. You’re saying that—“

Brandt looked suspicions and suddenly Benji felt uncomfortable sitting at their table. He wrapped his hand around his warm cup, hoping to find some reassurance in the heat seeping into his palm.

Cutting him off, Brandt said, “I must admit, he is particularly good at it.”

“At being an agent? Yeah.”

“At being secretive. Not letting people past the imaginary, subconscious wall he’s built up around himself. There’s the rare exception every now and then, but apart from that the man’s a total recluse.”

“Cheers to that.” Benji smiles, only half-heartedly but Brandt doesn’t need to know the buried truth within his statement; not yet. He lifted his glass up and clinked it with Brandt’s despite feeling the tense air around them. Their coffees slosh inside, threatening to slip over the brim and onto the glazed wood. Benji assumed the moment had passed, feeling himself relax a little more into eh back of his chair.

“Hm!” Brandt hums through the liquid in his mouth, sounding as if he’s just remembered something, then swallows quickly to get his words out, “Okay, I’m gonna cut the crap. When the fuck are you thinking of telling him? Just—by the way.”

Benji looks up sharply from his cappuccino, his spoon loudly hit the side of the cup as he dropped it; a little startled to say the least. The crude language shocked him, although he probably should have expected it coming from Brandt. So that’s what he was trying to get at, he had most likely been sitting on the question all morning.

“What?”

“Don’t ‘what’ me, I’m talking about Ethan. When will you tell him?”

Benji frowned and looked back down at his beverage, the milk foam was slowly dripping down the side of the glass. “Tell him what? I’m not telling him anything, what gave you the impression that I even had any—“

“Save that bullshit for Luther, I’m not here to hear you stutter around it. Go on, when are you gonna tell Ethan about your feelings for him?”

Benji kept his head down, his other hand, the one not circling the lip of his coffee, was gripping onto his thigh with great strength. Was it appropriate to discuss those things in such an open area? The two men were surrounded by other small tables, all filled in with couples enjoying their time out on a Tuesday morning. Any one of the individuals littering the cafe could be listening in, could be working for other agencies, could be hitmen, other forms of trained assassins, or spies. They could easily use this information against Benji if he decided to translate his thoughts into words, especially to someone like Brandt; who, although was extremely well built and stable, Benji believed would crumble under any form of severe pressure, much like torture. His son was now a pressure point.

Benji and Brandt were in Italy, though. It would be a surprise if anyone in the cafe could even understand them in their native tongue. 

“I’m not—let’s not talk about this here, I don’t think it’s the safest place to be discussing these things.”

“Oh, come on, Dunn. No one in here cares about your little crush, they’re not even listening.”

Benji snarled, “It’s not a little—sod it, we _don’t know_ who’s listening in. Anyone could be eavesdropping, they could even hurt Ethan because of this, I’m not going to take that risk.”

Brand tilted his head and stared evenly at Benji, he lent over the table a little so that Benji had no where to look except for his face. It was bloody well intimidating. 

“Benji. Listen to me, you’re being paranoid.” Brandt’s voice was low and gravelly, this man could be scary when he wanted to be, “No one in their right mind would even attempt to assassinate Ethan Hunt. Not over a fucking schoolgirl crush. Get over the fear and let me hear it.” 

“That’s not—I won’t. I’m not going to.” Benji lifted his chin and stared down hard at Brandt from over his nose. Brandt wasn’t the best at drawing gossip out of men either.

“Get off it already, Benji!” He slapped his fist down onto the wood between them, rattling the sugar pot, “There’s no use in sulking around dwelling on it all day, take a deep breath and tell the man for crying out loud.”

How on earth did he get himself into this situation, Benji wondered. With sweetly caffeinated liquid coating the tips of his fingers as he accidentally dunked them too far past the rim, his ankles crossed under the rickety wooden table, one chipped leg a tad bit shorter than the rest; causing the whole table face to suddenly tilt a certain way at random moments. Agent William Brandt opposite him, facing him steadily, asking him when he was going to tell their mutual colleague about his undying love for the man, which until this very hour, Benji had believed he was the only one aware of.

“There’s nothing to get off, this isn’t something you should even know about, Brandt. Definitely not something you should be nagging me about either, I make my own pace with these things. Now if you’ll excuse me, I think we’re done with this conversation.” Benji nodded curtly, hoping to God that that was the end of it. He bent his elbow to pick up his glass andtook a long sip of his drink, it had gone cold — bloody good, that was just perfect. 

He did this all the while not making eye contact with Brandt, who Benji could see in his peripheral vision was staring at him with a small grin. What did he have to be smiling about? Maybe the fact that he’d successfully riled Benji up, it wasn’t hard to do. Brandt had seem Benji like this before, maybe not flustered, but under pressure and anxious. 

“Well, I wanted to give you some advice. Thought I could get the ball rolling, you know? We’ve all noticed that things between you two have been pretty tense, frustratingly, and the build up’s been quite slow. We all think that if you’d just go up and tell him, the train could finally leave the station.”

What was he going on about, what train, which station, who’s ball was it? Benji worked hard to not let his lip quiver in anger. What right did Brand have to go yapping around him, trying to give him advice on his relationship status with Ethan? 

“As if I’m going to take advice from you, Mr. Macho. That’s right, yeah, you’re just as bad as Ethan, never letting anyone in, always keeping up that stone wall.” Brandt didn’t flinch, but to be fair it was an awfully weak blow, “And anyway, what’s it to you? Why do you care whether or not I tell him, not saying that I do have much to even tell, it’s certainly not as extreme as you lot seem to believe.” Benji sat up straighter, he didn’t lean any further over his coffee, not unless he’d wanted to touch noses with Brandt, “Speaking of you lot—how many of you actually know? Is it everyone in the—has word been going around?”

“No, no word’s been going around. Christ, don’t stress yourself out more than you already are, it’s all still a bloody secret,” then more quietly said under his breath, “like we’re in god-damn grade school.”

“Except it’s not though, is it? Not really, otherwise you wouldn’t be bringing it up. I’ll ask again, why do you care?”

Brandt sighed, he slouched back into his equally creaky wooden chair, it was padded with some cushioning but not enough to allow the man to relax into it. He rubbed his knuckles against the crease between his brows and swished his almost-empty cup with the other hand. With time, he looked up at Benji again, this time down the bridge of his nose for his head was resting back against the mirror placed on the wall. The mirror wasn’t the best, it had greasy fingerprints that stopped suddenly halfway up the length of it, Benji assumed that that’s the highest point anyone could reach. What could he say, it was a cheap coffee shop; people smeared their fingers over the damn mirror, no biggie.

“Okay, we’re trying to look out for you, we’re not trying to piss you off or anything.” Benji sniffed audibly and made a face, “Yeah, yeah, I know we’re not doing a very good job, and I probably shouldn’t have thrown that on you either, bit too much for nine in the morning. We care because…” Brandt looked down at his coffee again, lifting his head back off from the decorated mirror’s boarder, he downed the last few drops from the mug, “because we can tell that you’re struggling with it. No one told us that you were, you know, after Ethan, we all just noticed on our own.And you pretty much confirmed it earlier.” Benji almost choked on his own saliva. “Nothing to be worried about, there aren’t bloody flyers popped up in the office somewhere advising everyone to look out for Benji Dunn’s massive heart-eyes. We would never do that.”

Benji hummed. No, they wouldn’t. They were far too good to him to be so cruel as to do that; Jane, Luther, Brandt, Ilsa, even Ethan — they were always the main ones looking out for him, making sure nothing hurt his little feelings. Bad luck, Ethan did hurt his little feelings, all the time. Hurt his heart too, but they couldn’t stop that from happening, it was near impossible to do so. 

Brandt put the white ceramic down loudly, no one turned heads. “Julia noticed first, years ago, but she only came up to me after Kashmir to told me to keep my eye out for you, pretty sure she was the only one who knew until then.” Benji had almost been expecting her to come up to _him_ and ask what was going on, she’d certainly given him knowing looks outside their respective tents, “Then I called Jane and Luther, one after the other, they had suspicions but didn’t really know anything. As far as I can tell, Ethan has no clue either.” 

Benji nervously bent his fingers and crackled the joints, Brandt looked uncomfortable, though not because of that.

“I don’t really—listen, I hate talking about these types of things. Bottom line is we all know, Ilsa too. You don’t need to be anxious about the office finding out, they won’t and the suits don’t care anyway, we all just want you to feel better about yourself and talk to Ethan.” Benji opened his mouth to interject and tell him that no matter how gently he tries to pitch it to Ethan, the outcome would never be positive, “Just because I _can be_ as cold hearted and shut off as Ethan doesn’t stop me from knowing this would benefit you both. Communication is key.” 

As much as it was irritating Benji, he couldn’t deny the fact that he was touched by the team’s concern, his friend’s concern. It was both nice knowing that they were looking out for him, and horrible to discover that they’d known this entire time. Known that he preferred men over women, that he didn’t get to tell them that himself, or that he was, and still is, pining after Ethan Hunt. Someone who was way out of his league. Every one was after Ethan, every female in the damn office swooned over him; and Ethan could easily have any one of them, yet he didn’t. Benji couldn’t help but wonder if they placed bets about it too, if they had a cash jar, a voting system; all to see if Benji would ever get him, if he even stood a chance with Ethan. 

It made him feel a little ill.

“You don’t understand,” Benji sighed into his hands, “nothing’s gonna change. Even if I do tell him none of it will make a difference. He’s not the kind of person to—to—to… he’ll only ask us both to pretend it never happened. He won’t want any part in it.” Benji can feel the words leave his mouth, can taste the falsehood of it all, the way lies are harder to form his lips around. Benji was deeply afraid of what Ethan _would really_ say if he brought it up. Wasn’t sure if Ethan being delighted by the news was good or not, whether it would get them both killed. He freely glares at Brandt now, trying to verbally convince him that whatever he’s doing right now is utterly pointless.

“You’re wrong, mate.” 

Benji almost groaned in frustration, “I’m not. I’ve known him far longer than you have, almost twelve years now, he’s not—“ he took a breath and avoided the word, “Ethan’s straight.”

That was the hardest part to say; it almost made Benji laugh. Ethan Hunt a straight man, imagine that. Who was he fooling right now? Brandt looked like he was just about to explode, his face had gone red, most likely from denying air. His fists were shaking on the table, clenched so tightly Benji was sure his nails were drawing blood from his palms. He was damn well pissed.

“He’s in love with you.”

It was Benji’s turn to stop breathing. 

“And you know that, don’t you? You know he is.” Brandt didn’t took very angry anymore, he looked more pitiful than anything. His eyebrows were pinched when Benji looked away; back down at his shaky hands, holding onto his cold glass. 

It felt like a punch to the gut hearing those exact words being said aloud. Of course, he knew.

The signs had always been there, Benji had suspected it from the very beginning and as years passed, he’d slowly began to confirm it. During the earlier missions he’d shared with him, Ethan would let his guard slip a bit too freely; would allow himself to look, not just watch, but _look_ at attractive men during their time overseas. Benji noticed, but only because he was doing the same thing. 

Benji realised soon after that Ethan touched him more than another agent in their team, more than Jane, or Brandt; they didn’t get the same amount of shoulder grabs, back pats and neck rubs as he did. That was one of the prouder discoveries made, Benji strived knowing how comfortable Ethan was with him; especially after acknowledging that he was generally a really touchy person yet chose Benji as his main target. Then there had been the moments they shared alone, where Ethan would steal glances at Benji’s mouth, had wobbled on this heels for a split second, threatening to lean down and—

Benji figured it out pretty quickly. It’s easier to deduce those things when both parties are in the same boat. Helplessly in love and too afraid to do anything about it. They have good reason too, it’s incredibly dangerous for two active agents to admit feelings for one another, then continue into a relationship. Agent Carter and Hanaway were a perfect example; after Trevor died, Jane was no longer mentally stable to do her job correctly, she intentionally killed a hostage for the sake of revenge and jeopardised their entire mission. That could easily happen to Benji and Ethan.

Despite all of this, Benji still isn’t sure on whether or not Ethan is aware that he reciprocates his feelings. He does have a slight hunch; that Ethan does. He was certain he’d done a good job on hiding it (well, that was until Brandt let the cat out of the bag and told him ‘they’ all knew), but sometimes Ethan can be pretty thick skulled when it comes to these things.

Benji nodded, Brandt visibly perked up. “Yes. We still can’t—it’s too dangerous to do anything about it.” his voice was croaky. He was getting emotional, fuck.

“It’s not, you two are some of the smartest, most skilled, agents the IMF has. Trust me, I should know, I’m sitting through those meeting day in, day out, you guys frequently come up in conversation. And if you don’t worry about him when he’s out on solo missions, than you shouldn’t when being—what’s-it-called—entangled with each other, either.”

Brandt had a point, except Benji couldn’t really understand it. His tone was persuasive though, he was working hard to bring Benji over to his side. Benji was slipping.

“What does that even mean?”

Brandt pushed his cup to the side when the waitress suddenly came over, he nodded her direction but kept his eyes on Benji; who was slightly panicking that she’d been listening in and was now judging him. She hesitated when reaching to grab Benji’s half full cup.

“Signore, hai finito?” The young woman’s voice was light with a rich accent, Benji was immediately caught staring at her vividly red painted lips; not because they interested him, but because they were striking against her pale skin.

Benji dipped his chin down quickly, he didn’t know Italian, “Yes, you can take it now, thank you.” 

Brandt waited for her to twirl back round the back of the cafe towards the kitchen before continuing, “I mean that being together won’t change anything negatively, you two will be happier than ever. And that it’s a good thing you don’t worry about him when he’s out there alone, that could cause some bumps in your road.”

Benji looked back to him and tucked his hands underneath the table, now with no coffee to fiercely hold, whilst Brandt had crossed his arms upon the wood, he decided to hide his nervously grasping fingers. “But I do worry about him, constantly.”

“Well—damn it, whatever, forget that, you can work that out once you’re together.”

“We’re not going to be together!” Benji forced his voice to lower after a couple looked over, “Christ, I’m not going to bloody ask Ethan Hunt out.” he growled at Brandt, scrunching his face up in faux disgust.

“I’ll do anything.”

“Huh?”

“For you to do it. I’ll do anything, what do you want from me?” Brandt slouched back again, no doubt spreading his knees under the table too; man-spreading in relaxation.

Benji snorted and almost continued into a deep belly laugh but forced it away at the last second, instead turning it into a grimace. He dropped his forehead back into his hands. “I don’t want anything from you. Fucking hell, would you just let this whole thing drop, please?”

“Are you kidding me? No way. I’ve gotten this far with you, I’m not backing out now. Whatever you ask for, I’ll do it, and in return you’ll ask him out.”

“I’m not—you’re not going to fucking bribe me into—“

“I’m not bribing, we’re doing each other a favour. You’re making work _so much_ easier for me to handle, no offence but it's tiring watching you two tiptoe around each other like a pair of teenagers, _and_ I’m bringing love into your life.” Brandt clapped with joy, Benji fought back a smile. “Plus, what’s the harm? He likes you, we know that.”

“We don’t know for sure,” Benji argues, meaning almost the opposite, “we haven’t even asked him yet.”

“Exactly. You do that. Here, why don’t we call him right now.” Brandt reached around to his back pocket and pulled out his ancient flip-phone, they were all issued one, it was protocol. He opened it up and started dialling on the number pad, the little sound effects pulling Benji into a nostalgic trance. 

He broke out fast enough to growl at Brandt before he’d clicked call, “Brandt, put the sodding phone down.” Brandt let out a drawn out sigh and dropped the phone on the table between them, the screen showed the beginning of Ethan’s burner number. Benji let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, “It’s no use anyway, you know we can’t call him when he’s on a mission. We’d have to wait until he calls us from a payphone. Who knows how long it’ll be before he does that, _if_ he does at all.”

Brandt shook his head at Benji’s gentle smile, they’d both got each other pinned.

“I’ll get the bill.” Brandt says, finally. 

**Author's Note:**

> first of all; that kangaroo story is 100% true. it was a wild night.
> 
> second of all; theres one more chapter, and its coming...
> 
> hey gang, if you dont mind, and if it doesnt take too long, please leave me a warm comment :') im thirsty for them, AND I STILL PROMISE TO FINISH MY OTHER STORIES, HONEST. also i apologise if i got anything wrong in this, about crema and stuff, i find europe very confusing but im still desperate to go back there because its beautiful.


End file.
